


Days of Recovery

by WibblyWobbly_TimeyWimey



Series: A werewolf's diary [1]
Category: Sterek - Fandom, Sterek - Teen Wolf, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Erica, Alive Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd, Alive Vernon Boyd, Alive!Erica, Alpha!Peter, Depressed!Derek, Depression, F/F, F/M, Good Peter, Hale Family Feels, Homosexual, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Multi, New guy Scott, New guy Stiles, The Hale Fire, Werewolf, Werewolves, alive!Boyd, beta!derek, major depression disorder, maybe she's dead?, omega!Scott, scott and stiles went to another school, sterek, stiles and derek are the same age, where is cora?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:19:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WibblyWobbly_TimeyWimey/pseuds/WibblyWobbly_TimeyWimey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slight AU in which Derek was born a few years later, and is sixteen years old when he loses his family in a fire. He is slowly recovering from major depression disorder, when suddenly his uncle wakes up from his coma, the new (hot) guy has to sit next to him in class and Derek slowly realizes that he too deserves to be happy and maybe, just maybe, everything will be better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My head's a prison and nobody visits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay yea, I made Derek the same age as the other teenagers (except from Cora and Allison). It fits the story better so whatever.  
> Also the song ['Holes'](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glvBbx-K-R8) by Passenger inspired me to write this story. It's amazing, go listen!

 

 

(Cover by WibblyWobbly_TimeyWimey so please don't steal the rights. I know it's not great but I'm too lazy to make something better right now)

 

☾

 

_When I was sixteen, my house burnt down and I lost everything. I had been at school, but everyone else were at home. We were many so we were rarely all home at the same time. I guess Kate waited until the best moment. The one that would cause most victims._

_We were only two survivors, my uncle Peter and I. However, you couldn't really say that Peter_ lived _. Not until today. Today is a very special day and that’s why I'm finally picking you up. An old book, never used but still worn. I got it from my mom at my sixteenth birthday because I was bad with my words. Still am. I never got to use it though. When they all died, it just seemed so silly. I couldn't manage to think about it let alone write about it. I spend half a year with major depressive disorder. All I did was sleep. I couldn't manage anything else. I was even force-fed at one point, because I just simply couldn't care about eating. It just seemed so insignificant to eat when everyone else were dead and Peter was in a coma._

_Oh yea. Uncle Peter. Peter was completely paralyzed. Until recently. That is why today is a big day.  They let him out of the hospital because his recovery is almost complete. Today I got a small piece of my life back. Today Uncle Peter was suddenly fine. I have a family now. It's a small family but maybe, just maybe we'll get by. In addition, I'm getting better, even the doctor says so. It is as if my life is slowly beginning to make sense again. I am realizing that I lived for a reason. Not everything happens for a reason but maybe something does. Maybe there's a reason I lived. Maybe there's a reason I had to go through six horrible months. Maybe there's a reason Uncle Peter woke up now of all times, at the six month anniversary. And maybe there's a reason the new guy was seated at my table today. Stiles._

_My doctor keeps telling me I deserve to be happy._

_I don't know, maybe I'm just being silly._

_As my doctor always says; t_ _he only way is forward,_

_Derek Hale_

_  
_☾

 

Derek closed the book with a deep sigh. He wasn't used to doing, well,  _anything_  so his hand had quickly started to hurt. So had his heart. He had done anything to avoid thinking about what happened, these past 6 months, constantly either sleeping or lifting weights. However, his doctor kept telling him that not getting his feelings out was worse. And today he felt like it was finally time to take out the book and start writing. With everything that had happened that day, he actually felt the need to tell someone, for the first time in very long. And even though he could talk with Peter now, it just seemed as if something was off with him. His scent wasn't the same anymore and it felt kind of weird to confess his deepest feelings to someone he hadn't spoken with for 6 months. Someone he thought was dead.

"Dinner's ready!” Peter called and Derek jumped from the bed quickly hiding the books, afraid Peter might come to his room. He didn't exactly know why he didn't want Peter to see the book. He just didn't.

The kitchen was filled with a delicious smell of Spaghetti Bolognese as Derek entered. He remembered Peter as a decent cook and couldn't wait to eat. In the institution, he had lived at the past half year, they had gotten horrible institutionalized food. Derek suspected they did it so people would want to get better so they could leave. Nevertheless, if the choice were between the Beacon Hills Clinic for Depression and an orphanage Derek would choose the clinic at any time.

He sat at a chair opposite of Peter and started filling his plate. Without a word, he started shoveling the food in his mouth. Just recently, he had started to actually enjoy food again so he still didn't know when to stop. After such a long time his stomach wasn't used to much food and he knew he'd feel sick later.

"So... What have I missed?” Derek looked up, surprised by Peter's words. Not that the words themselves where weird, he just wasn't used to others than the doctors speaking to him. The other teenagers and kids at the clinic had learned that he didn't talk much.

"I...” Derek had to couch a bit to clear his voice which was hoarse from being used so seldom, "I don't really know. I mostly sleep", he said and then quickly picked up his water as an excuse not to talk. Peter just looked at him with an 'oh' expression on his face.

"What about Laura? I know for a fact she wasn't home when-", Derek cut Peter off bluntly, "she killed herself". His face was stern and he was refusing to look at Peter.

"What! When?” Peter asked, and Derek could hear the genuine shock in his voice.

"Right- right after. She couldn't take it", Derek mumbled. Even though it had been a long time, he could already feel a tear running down his cheek. And he, who thought he didn't have any more tears left to cry. He really did not want to think about Laura's death. He was finally getting over it, he didn't need a reminder. God damn it. His nails dug into his hands, as he tried to will the memories away.

"I'm not hungry anymore", they both said it at the same time and looked at each other surprised. Derek noticed, surprised, that Peter was fighting tears. He stood up abruptly and made his way to his room. A hand on his arm stopped him halfway to the room. Peter's arm.

"I'm happy you didn't also...” he couldn't finish his sentence, but Derek knew what he meant. And suddenly it was just too much. He threw his arms around Peter at the same time as the other, and before they knew, they were sobbing on each other’s shoulders. The tears had dried over the months and it was quite some time since he cried the last time, but seeing Peter again and talking about Laura.. It just reminded him of everything.

It also reminded him that Peter must've already known that Laura was dead. He had to know, because that would mean that Peter was the alpha. But why did he ask then? Was that why he was smelling so weird? Was that why Derek had this... different feeling about Peter?

Peter was his alpha now.

 

☾

 

Eventually the sobs stilled and they decided to make some tea and cookies and sit in the living room. They sat there talking until the clock showed 4 am. They talked about everything. Mostly about the fire and Laura's suicide. Then, when they just couldn't bear it anymore, they talked about memories. All the things they missed, the things they never appreciated enough. That topic hurt too, but it was accompanied by a happiness. A sad happiness, but nonetheless happiness.

Then they went to bed when their voices were hoarse from talking that much when none of them were used to it. For the first time in a long time, Derek actually felt somewhat happy when he fell asleep. Then the nightmares started

 

☾

 

Because Derek had been happy, the nightmares were even worse than normal. Therefore, he did the only thing he could think of - he picked up the diary.

 

_I was the one who found them. Of course I was. Laura was out with her friends and I was supposed to be at lacrosse practice. I had forgotten my stick at home and had to go get it._

_I arrived to the sight of the remains of my family and house burning. I could smell burnt flesh but of course, I wouldn't just believe my senses, I just_ had  _to see for myself. I'll never forget the burning bodies. I'll never forget how it was to see my own family burning to death like that. They were almost completely burnt down - the police found out later that the fire had been set around 9 am that morning._

 _It was just as I was standing above the remains of my mother and youngest brother, still a baby when he died, that I heard something. That something was my girlfriend. She was the one who set the fire. I wouldn't believe her until she tried killing me too. So I killed her. I killed her slowly, making sure not to leave any marks on her bones. I killed her slowly and I_ enjoyed  _it. At that moment, I was truly the monster people say werewolves are. When her screams had stilled and she was dead, I burned her too. I put the lighter in her hand so the police would know, that she had lit the fire. I also made it look like her own fire had trapped her, hoping that it looked convincing._

_Then I just stood there and watched until her flesh was burned enough to remove any mark of me. I finally called the police after that. I guess they could see that Kate hadn't burned at the same time as the others but they never mentioned anything to the public. I'm sure the family was told though. They never contacted me. They didn't hunt me as the hunters they were. They didn't do anything. The teenager, Allison, still goes to my school. She's a year older than I am but we're in the same year. We have none of the same classes but it still hurts seeing her every day. She doesn't really look like Kate, but the way she is reminds me so much of how Kate was. I know the other Argent's probably had nothing to do with the fire. But I still hate them almost as much as I hate myself._

_I'm still afraid. I killed someone. She deserved it, but it was still a life that wasn't mine to take. A murder I didn't get caught for, a murder that gave me blue eyes. How am I going to hide this from Peter?_

He hadn't intended on writing that much, but he just couldn't stop. He was really tired though and fell asleep with the book in one hand and the pen in the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yea, this chapter is pretty short. My chapters are gonna be 2000/3000 words normally. I know it's not as long as most of the other stories here on AO3 but it's how long I make my chapters, and I hope you're all okay with that :)  
> Also English is not my mother tongue, but I don't tend to have any mistakes apart from the occasional typos, but I know for a fact there's a lot of wrong commas 'cause I have no idea where to put those when writing English... So, sorry for that! :)


	2. Take your breath away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for being the worst. I have major writer's block. This sucks. I'm so sorry. I don't know if I'm feeling this story anymore.

The following morning was one big bowl of 'fucking hell'. Peter barged into his room at 6 am - **_6 am_**  - meaning that Derek got around one hour of sleep. As if that wasn't enough, Peter had hastily announced that Derek was late, which made absolutely no sense, because hello, 6 am. Turned out Peter had a lot of plans. _A lot_. involving getting bread from the baker and a very strict morning training program. In the end Derek almost didn't make it to school on time, because Peter was so focused on 'making their pack capable of defending itself' ( _what pack? They were hardly a pack!_ ), so intensely that it was actually a bit scary. On top of that they forgot Derek's backpack and had to drive back after it, because his books were in it.

By the time Derek was finally firmly seated in economics class he was beyond done. His life had been slower than slow the past half year. He had literally done nothing - just eat, sleep, survive, repeat every day. It was a really big change, one he could clearly feel that he was not ready to make. Not only did he still have a major depression disorder, hello, he wasn't physically fit for it either. Even though he was used to lifting weights he wasn't used to the stress the morning had put on him.

That was probably why he didn't notice Mr. Harris, before said guy dryly asked if 'Mr. Hale thought that he could stoop to the level of his peers and listen to the teacher'. Which Derek did intend to do. Until he actually looked up at the front of the class. Because there, a few steps to the left of Mr. Harris were two boys Derek had never seen before. One had big puppy eyes and fluffy brown hair, and he was looking at Mr. Harris like the teacher might eat him. And the other guy. Oh my, the other guy. He had moles that made you wanna map every constellation on his body. And what a body. Unlike the other boy, a wide smile graced the boy's face, and he did not look scared at all, as he took in his classmates, probably deciding who were hot and who were _not_. Derek sank further into his seat, in the hopes that maybe the boy wouldn't notice him.

"These are our newest students. Please welcome them, bla, bla, bla, whatever. You - yea, you who look like you're on all types of caffeine", Mr. Harris was speaking to the molekid, regaining Derek's attention. The guy really did look like he had had one too many cups of coffee this morning, "- you can sit besides dark and broody over there. Maybe he can suck some of the energy out of you. I wouldn't put it past him", Mr. Harris said in his usual dry voice. Derek was trying his best at a pokerface ( _ **suck** the energy out, really?_ ), which lead to him not actually realizing that _he_  was in fact 'dark and broody over there'. His eyes widened, as the boy's gaze settled upon him. He didn't look that broody. Did he? Well, everything was preferable over the 'deer caught in the headlights' look he was sporting at said moment. Which brought his thoughts back to the boy who was now walking towards him, oh God, he couldn't believe that it was actually happening, and he could already feel the social anxiety crawl in on him. He was not good with people. He didn't actually talk to people. Especially bubbly, open, firecrackers like this guy looked like he might be.

"Stiles", the boy whispered, as he extended his hand toward Derek, who realized that he had just been _staring_ at the guy, which made him very happy, that he was practically immune to blushing.

"Excuse me what?", Derek asked confused, his eyebrows knitting close together in a confused mask, directed at the boy, who sighed heavily. Did he do anything wrong? Was he supposed to know what 'stiles' meant? Maybe that was some new, cool thing, like 'yo' or something? Derek honestly wouldn't know, but he liked to think that he would at least notice if everyone greeted each other with 'stiles'.

"It's my name. Or well, not, but I can't even pronounce my own name correctly, so I thought, well, my last name is Stilinski, so Stiles. Pretty clever, huh?", Stiles answered a mile a minute. Derek was left still just staring at the boy, who expectantly cocked an eyebrow. Apparently he wanted an answer. Derek wasn't good with answer, especially to someone who talked that much and looked sinful just raising an eyebrow.

He did clear his throat, and open his mouth in an attempt of getting something out. Stiles was just... Waiting. Stiles, what the hell was that for a name anyway? Of course this guy had to come in and be all perfect and ridiculous and have such a stupid name. Derek had to bite his cheek to make sure he didn't look like a nervous wreck.

"Dude, I get it, you have a very highly developed serial killer stare, but there's really no need for it, I'm just asking for your name, man", Stiles said, drawing Derek's attention back to the whole brooding problem. Serial killer stare? He had heard he was broody before, but serial killer stare?

As to somehow outline his point or something, Stiles waved his pen in the air. Maybe he was just restless, he did seem like the type, but no matter the cause, he dropped his pen to his left, giving Derek a small time to get a hold of himself without anyone looking at him.

Of course the pen-dropping resulted in Stiles having to reach for the pen, which made Derek see things he _did not need to see in the middle of class_. Like how ridiculously tight Stiles' jeans were, or how his ass certainly was painfully flawless too. Derek really didn't need a stupid, very inappropriate boner in class, like he was in middle school and couldn't control himself, but apparently he was a big whore, or maybe he had found his type. His exact type.

 

☾

 

_So, I managed to get through the class without any embarrassing exposing of my semi-boner. I guess I should thank some higher spirit that Mr. Harris actually decided to lay low today. I swear economics is the worst. Mr. Harris knows all about my illness and how I feel talking in front of the class or just talking in general, and yet he still tries to aim for me every. damn. lesson. I usually pretend like I don't hear him. That has cost me a lot of trips to Mrs. Morrell. I have spent hours with that woman, and I have never spoken a word to her. Then again, I rarely actually need to use my words._

_On a totally different topic, they're letting Erica out next week. Again. I hope she'll manage this time and won't relapse. I've noticed how this guy always look at her, whenever she has her short periods where she's actually allowed out of the clinic. I like it. He looks at her like she's something precious, something he would like to protect. Most people don't look at Erica that way. I have decided I like him._

_I'm not even going to go in on the topic of my new shoulder partner. I don't have English with him, but he didn't stop talking during economics, even though I didn't really answer him. I don't think he needs much response to keep up a conversation. I have a feeling he already has my schedule memorized and is waiting for me after English. He's the type._

_And there I go, on the exact topic I said i wouldn't go in on. Okay, the teacher is giving me weird looks anyway._

 

_As my doctor always says; the only way is forward,_

_Derek Hale_

 

It wasn't as if the teacher actually cared. Derek hadn't bothered remembering her name, she was one of those unbelievably unstable high school teachers. Then again Derek wasn't exactly the one to talk about being unstable.

Point being, the teacher and Derek had a kind of silent agreement. She didn't bother him, he didn't bother her. Worked in favor of both, really. Derek's project partner didn't seem to like the idea quite as much.

Lydia Martin was just about the closest Beacon Hills got to an 'it girl'. She was fabulous and bitchy, and she had an IQ around 170. She also mastered a very evil glare, which was currently aimed at the pen Derek was playing with.

"If you're not participating, I'm not writing your name on the essay", Lydia said simply, sending him a perfect not-smile. More like the opposite of a smile. Derek could practically  _smell_ her anger.

Derek stopped playing with his pen and actually turned his attention to the assignment paper. Hey, he was no bad guy. They were to explore the topic of 'growing up' and  how 'social medial affects the growing up of our days youngsters'. Great. A boy who was quite literally raised by wolves and who had spent the last half year locked in a clinic, totally knew everything about that subject. Not.

"I don't know anything about that", Derek answered Lydia, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair again, closing his eyes from the annoyed face of one strawberry blonde goddess.

"Fine, fail the class then", Lydia answered, turning her attention to the paper. Derek really didn't know anything about the topic, but the thought of leaving Erica alone in their year was enough to get him to sit up straight and focus. He looked through their sources, pointing out and handing to Lydia. They worked in complete silence, a weird contrast to the loud mess around them. Lydia would occasionally ask something, and when Derek didn't answer she just assumed it meant that he agreed. Derek was definitely not thinking about that Stiles-boy at all. Even so, it was frustrating how a certain wide grin kept springing to his mind rather than Jersey Shore and Coca Cola commercials.

 

☾

 

It turned out Derek was right. When English ended, he was met with a big wide smile and a more reserved one from puppy-dog-boy, who apparently was Stiles' loyal friend. Or maybe it was the other way around?

Derek tried to convince himself that he found it annoying that Stiles took the time to know where he had class, and that it certainly was a pain-in-the-ass when Stiles and Scott insisted on eating lunch with him. Derek didn't do the whole lunch thing. He usually just sat in the library or somewhere else quiet, when he had lunch break, but Scott and Stiles practically dragged him to the cafeteria.

 

Derek certainly wasn't enjoying it. Not even a little bit. Not at all. At least that was what he told himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, again, this is pretty short, but as I said, writer's block. Should I continue this story? Let me know in the comments. Oh, by the way, this is written really late and I have no beta, so feel free to point out horrible flaws.

**Author's Note:**

> Everything I know about the American schoolsystem is from the internet, so bear with me.  
> Kudos/comments/whatever is greatly appreciated :) Also I have a [Tumblr](http://www.howlingteenwolf.tumblr.com), where I take prompts xx


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